


the best of company

by damnbrunettes



Series: new lands [2]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-05-26 21:44:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6257020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damnbrunettes/pseuds/damnbrunettes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>// follow-up to new lands //<br/>Phryne and Jack come back to Melbourne and deal with work, friends and family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> "No road is long with good company" ~ Turkish proverb.

They took their time flying home, sometimes spending a day strolling leisurely through the streets of Avignon, Cairo or Bombay. When they finally landed in Melbourne, the sun was already low in the sky but the air was still warm.

Phryne had sent a telegram ahead of them to announce their imminent arrival and request the presence of Bert and Cec at the airfield. The two men hadn't shown up yet. Phryne didn't mind. She actually wasn't that eager to get back to the city. She missed Jane, Dot, Mac... But she also already missed the freedom and the excitement of their trip.

Jack sat down on the ground, his back against the flat of the wheel. She grinned and sat down on his lap, her knees on either side of him. Her hands settled against his stomach. “Glad to be home at last?”

“Next time, let's take a boat, alright?”

She chuckled and, with a finger under his chin, she tilted his head up to kiss him. It was just a brush of lips at first but soon he opened his mouth and she stroked her tongue against his. He curled his hand over the back of her neck and pushed his tongue deeper in her mouth. He never had enough of her.

She moaned and rocked over him, rubbing heavily on his groin. He pulled back from her with a sharp breath. “Jesus, Phryne.”

She smirked but her eyes clouded suddenly. She looked down and played with the buttons of his shirt, undoing and doing them up again. “I'm going to miss this,” she said.

“Miss what?”

“Being free to kiss you whenever I want.”

He frowned. “Do you... Do you not want people to know about us?”

She looked down at him and ran her fingers through his hair. “The important people will know. They aren't stupid, Jack. Nobody will think you followed me to Europe out of friendly concern.” She smiled at him, a wicked half-smile that disappeared quickly. “But out in the world... I would understand if you wanted us to be discreet. Being associated with me on a professional level is one thing, but a romantic relationship probably won't do your career any favour.”

He sighed, let his head fall back against the wheel. “I don't care what people think, Phryne. And I'm not interested in any promotion. I'll take you out to dinner and kiss you in public if I damn well want.”

He was quite riled up by the time he finished and Phryne smiled adoringly at him. “I'm such a bad influence on you, aren't I,” she quipped lightly.

He didn't answer her. Instead he turned his head and jerked his chin. “I think we have company.” She followed his eyes and saw the familiar looking taxi making his way up to them.

* * *

 

Mr Butler, Dot, Hugh, Jane, Mac and Aunt P were all waiting for them at Wardlow when they got there. There was champagne and hors-d'oeuvre, music and laughter. The Collinses talked about their honeymoon and their new home (only two streets down and surprisingly cheap because Phryne had secretly wired the agent half of the original asking price). Prudence asked news of Margaret. Mac grilled her about her relationship with Jack.

Phryne caught sight of Jane, walking away from a conversation with Jack, a beaming smile on her face. She excused herself from her conversation-slash-interrogation with Mac and went over to Jack. She stood close to him, by the mantel of the parlour. She wrapped both her hands around her glass to keep herself from touching him.

“Are you fending off questions about us as much as I am?” she asked with a sigh.

“Albert and Cecil gave me the 'you hurt her, we'll hurt you' speech. And Jane asked me if I was in love with you,” he admitted.

She huffed out a laugh and cast a quick look around, smiling at the colourful assortment of loving people standing around them. “Aunt P said I could do better but I could also do worse, which is a glowing endorsement coming from her. And Mac asked if you were that good in bed that I would reconsider my stance on commitment.”

Phryne grinned wickedly and swayed closer to him. Jack looked over at Mac, a hint of a blush colouring his cheeks. Phryne laughed softly and, unable to resist him, she kissed him, a hot press of lips before she pulled away. When she turned back, half of their guests were staring at them while the other half looked very purposefully away.

She opened her mouth to playfully scold her audience but rather than speak, she suddenly yawned, which she quickly tried to hide behind her glass. She didn't fool Jack, standing behind her, who chuckled at her display. He leaned in and breathed in her ear. “Careful Miss Fisher, people will think you're tired.”

She turned and narrowed her eyes at him. “Or maybe I did it on purpose to get them to go home and leave us alone.” She looked up at him from behind her lashes and pursed her lips in a seductive moue. And then she yawned again.

Jack smirked widely, ignoring her scowl. Instead, he grabbed her waist to bring her against him. He dropped a kiss in her hair. “You're exhausted, Phryne. I should go home tonight and let you sleep.”

“Don't you dare.”

She was honestly exhausted. Despite the more leisurely pace of their journey back, she still had been flying a plane for weeks now, including eight hours today only. But she wanted to enjoy her return party for as long as she could and she certainly didn't want Jack to go back to his place. She knew it was inevitable at some point. They couldn't keep on spending their days together like they had been doing for the last month or so, especially since he went back to work in five days.

Yet, amazingly enough, she wasn't tired of his company. It seemed she liked nothing better than to wake up next to him. And even when they just sat side by side, each lost in their own book, she enjoyed being able to look up and see him there.

Maybe she should plan a week away, just her, when he went back to work. She could get some distance, some space, before she grew tired of his companionship. Because she was bound to grow tired of it at some point, wasn't she? That was in her nature. Better to miss him for a few days and be all the more happy to see him again when she got back.

With this idea in mind, she was determined to spend as much time with him as she could before Monday. And the prospect of her guests leaving became more tempting.

Jane went to bed soon after, having to get up for school the next morning. Then the Collinses were the first to leave, followed by Mac. Bert and Cec offered to drive Aunt P home. The short woman accepted gladly and gathered her things. She turned to Jack. “I'm sure we could drive you home as well, Inspector.”

His mouth opened on a short breath and hung open as he thought of an answer. Prudence levelled a expectant gaze on him, her brow furrowing with his silence. Phryne came to his rescue. She walked to his side and wrapped her hand around his upper arm. “Don't worry about Jack, Aunt P. He'll make his own way home.”

Mrs Stanley looked between her niece and the Inspector, obviously unsure whether to comment further. Eventually she nodded tightly, cast a last, disapproving look at Phryne, and left. Mr Butler closed the door behind her and went to the kitchen.

Phryne turned to Jack, her arms immediately going around his neck. Jack stared down at her, a small smirk on his face. “My own way home, huh?”

“Well... not tonight of course.” She smiled and kissed him like she had wanted to all night. A deep, thorough kiss that had her pressing herself fully against him and moaning in his mouth. “I want you, Jack, in my own home, in my own bed,” she purred in his ear.

“Lead the way to your boudoir then, Miss Fisher,” he rasped in response.

He followed her upstairs, oddly intrigued at the prospect of making love to her in her infamous boudoir. He had been in the room before, either for professional reasons or under circumstances he would rather forget. And god knows, they had now been intimate too many times to count. But there was just something about the idea of bringing her to ecstasy in a room that had seen numerous men come and go, and about being the one who stayed, at least for a while.

She went in first and closed the door behind him. She immediately pushed him against the door and her mouth latched on to his. Her hands quickly untucked his shirt from his pants and her nails scraped his back. He sucked on her lower lip before his mouth moved to her ear, licking the shell and tugging on the lobe. She keened and arched against him. “You know how many times I wanted to take you upstairs and have my wicked way with you?” she said, breathless already.

“Probably as many times as I wanted to follow you upstairs and pin you against that door,” he rasped. He put his hands on her waist and turned them so that she was the one with her back against the door. “Like that,” he added as she burst in a short, husky laugh.

He stroked his tongue against hers and cupped her buttocks to press her more tightly against him. His other hand went to her breast and he brushed his thumb over her nipple through her blouse. “Jack,” she gasped.

She jumped up and he wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her against him, his other hand still on her arse. She hooked her legs over his hips and kept on kissing him while her hands busied with unbuttoning his shirt. Jack turned and walked towards the bed. He dropped her gently onto the mattress and took a second to look at her.

He would never tire of her, even if she tired of him. He would always cherish that image of her, lying on a bed, with her cheeks flushed, her hair dishevelled, her eyes dark with lust as her whole body canted towards him. “Jaaack,” she moaned, impatient as she so often was.

He smiled and started to undress himself. She propped herself up on her elbows to watch him under heavy lids. He let his shirt fall to the floor, and pulled his singlet over his head. He stopped moving when he was down to his trousers, which were already opened in the front and hanging low on his hips without the braces. He smirked and jerked her head towards her. “Your turn.”

She hummed, narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. She laid back on the mattress, her arms arched over her head. “You were right, I am tired. You're going to have to do it yourself.” She smirked, a slow, lazy smile.

Jack stepped out of his pants and crawled on the bed. He laid down on his side next to her. He lowered himself over her, propped on an elbow, and slipped a knee between her legs. He kissed her slowly, his tongue caressing hers as his hand moved to her buttocks to unfasten her skirt. She rose slightly from the bed, just enough to allow him to pull the garment down. She watched him throw it carelessly towards a nearby chair and smiled.

He kissed his way back up, his lips ghosting a trail over the nylon of her stockings. She sighed when he finally encountered the bare skin of her upper thighs and softly raked his teeth against her. “Jack.” She breathed, threw her head back against the pillows and closed her eyes.

She didn't even open them when he pressed a hot kiss at her core, over the silk of her knickers, but she keened and pushed against his mouth. He laughed and nudged his nose over her clit. He could already smell the heady scent of her arousal and he almost moaned himself. She arched off the bed and reached blindly for him, tugging at his hair when she found him.

Jack moved up, held himself over her and leaned down to kiss her, lips against lips, as they each breathed the other's sighs. With one hand he slowly unbuttoned her blouse. He cupped her breasts and flicked his thumb over her silk-covered nipple. He trailed his fingers lightly down her stomach, a mere ghost of a touch. She trembled under him.

Jack was always surprised at what sometimes brought on a rush of love for her. A wink, a hug, a shiver... It came at the most unexpected of times, when he thought he already couldn't love her any more than he did. It made his heart clench and his breath catch in his throat.

He slipped his hand down her underwear and ran a finger over her wet folds. He pressed his thumb over her clit and pushed a digit in her. She thrashed, arched off the bed. Just as she sobbed his name, he whispered his love for her in her ear. Phryne covered his hand with hers over the silk, urging him deeper and harder. He added another digit and rubbed a circle over the sensitive nub. “Jack,” she cried.

She brought her other hand to the back of his neck and brought him down for a kiss. She seemed to follow the same rhythm with her tongue that he set with his fingers, in and out, and deeper in. He moaned in her mouth. Her chest heaved, her breathing heavier as she neared her climax.

Finally, she came, shuddering and gasping against his lips. Jack dropped light kisses over her cheeks, over her nose and her eyes as she struggled to catch her breath. She released the hand she'd trapped between her thighs and he pulled out of her. She caught his wrist and brought the wet digits to her lips. His eyes darkened as she licked his fingers clean of her arousal. She hummed and opened her eyes slightly, her lids heavy with pleasure. She smiled and cupped his cheek tenderly.

She liked tasting herself, and she liked tasting him, although she liked nothing better than the taste of their mingled arousal. It had unnerved some of her lovers in the past. But the hungry, feral look Jack got every time she indulged herself was icing on an already delicious cake.

She was spent, exhausted, but the feeling of Jack's erection pressing against her thigh made her ache with desire for him. “My diaphragm, Jack. It's in my toiletry bag in the bathroom.” He nodded, left the bed and walked in the adjoining bathroom.

It took him a moment to find the clamshell case in her messy, overstuffed bag. When he walked back into the bedroom, Phryne was under the covers, fast asleep. Despite his frustration, Jack felt the corners of his mouth twitch with a grin.

* * *

The next couple of days passed by in a lazy bliss. Jack and Phryne were indulging in another late morning in bed when Dot knocked on the bedroom door. Phryne sat up in bed and laughed quietly when Jack turned on his stomach and wrapped his arms around a pillow in which he hid his face. He felt immensely awkward at the idea of facing Dorothy while still laying in bed, only half dressed, and thought pretending to still be asleep was easier on every party involved.

Mindful of his modesty, Phryne pulled the sheet up over his bare back before calling for her companion to come in. She kept a hand on Jack's arm, her fingers lightly drawing patterns over his bicep. “Hello, Dot,” she greeted with a bright smile.

“Morning, Miss.” Dot smiled back. She cast a glance at Jack before quickly looking away.

Phryne bit back a smile. She thanked her when Dot carefully put the large tray down on the bed. “How is Hugh faring with his latest investigation, Dot?” Phryne asked, while the young woman picked up her employer's discarded clothes from the floor. Jack was more meticulous than her and his clothes were already conscientiously folded on the chaise.

Phryne frowned when she heard her companion's deep sigh. “Not that well, miss. There's been a second murder yesterday, by the same man he thinks. It's hit him hard...”

Next to her, Jack turned, his brow already knitted in thought. He propped himself on an elbow. “Is Sergeant Claridge still heading the investigation?” he asked.

“Hum, yes... Yes, Inspector,” Dorothy stuttered. Jack nodded and casually reached for a grape on the tray sitting over Phryne's lap.

“Well I'm sure they'll figure it out, Dot,” Phryne assured and gave the girl a warm smile. The young woman nodded and left the room. Phryne turned her head and smiled down at Jack, running her fingers through his hair. “Please tell me you'll stop being so awkward around Dot soon?” she teased.

“I'm just not used to being waited on like that.”

She would have replied something but he raked his teeth softy against the pale skin of her upper arm and she got distracted. Jack then grabbed a piece of toast from the tray and sat up against the headboard. She moved the tray from her lap to his and sat cross-legged on the bed, turned towards him.

“Do you think Hugh and Sergeant Claridge really will solve these murders?” she asked him.

“They're good detectives, Phryne,” he assured. He smirked at her. “You're just itching for a murder, aren't you? I'm back on duty in two days, you know. I'm sure you'll invite yourself on my first crime scene...”

She glared and stole the toast he'd just buttered from him. “Actually, I was thinking of going away for a few days.”

Jack frowned. “You just got back to Melbourne. You want to leave already?”

“Just for a few days, and only to Ballarat. I have a friend there, Agatha Hawthorne,” she said, her voice going up at the end. Jack wondered if he was supposed to know the woman or if Phryne was simply insisting on the fact that she wasn't talking about a gentleman friend. “I've been meaning to visit her for months now.” She shrugged and brushed her thumb at the corner of her mouth. She stared at Jack under her lashes, looking oddly vulnerable for a second, before she tilted her chin up defiantly. “You don't mind my going away on my own, do you?”

His brow knitted in confusion. “Of course not, Phryne. Why would I?”

Phryne stared at him for a beat, before she moved up the bed, closer to him. She rested her head against the headboard and trailed her fingers down his arm. “I think I'm still getting used to the idea that love and freedom don't have to be mutually exclusive.”

Jack's breath caught in his throat. He stared at her. She looked almost delicate in that moment, with her hair unkempt, her face bare and her lips slightly chapped. The strap of her nightgown had slipped from her shoulder. With a brush of his knuckle, Jack moved it back up. She smiled lazily and he leaned in to kiss her quickly.

“I'll miss you, Phryne. But I would never try and stop you from living your life. And anyway, knowing you, you'll stumble on a murder within a day and call me to strong-arm the local constabulary.”

She laughed and lightly swatted him on the arm. She licked her lips and smiled wickedly. “Now hurry up with that breakfast. I have a different kind of appetite that needs satisfying.”


	2. Chapter 2

Phryne and Jack's plans for a last few days of leisure were soon derailed. That very afternoon, the deputy commissioner called Jack about the worrying killing spree and asked him to step in. And the fact that his superior called him at Phryne's house, Jack would rather ignore.

A third woman had been murdered, presumably by the same man and, knowing Jack was back in Melbourne, the deputy commissioner wanted him back in the field as soon as possible. Jack sighed and looked at Phryne. She stared back, dead panned. “Don't even pretend you aren't looking forward to going back to work.”

Jack held it in for a second before his lips curled up in a small smirk. He pulled his coat on and turned back towards Phryne who gently put his hat on his head. He blinked slowly, entranced by the tender look in her eyes. “Here you are, Inspector.” She smiled and brushed a hand down the front of his coat.

“You're not even trying to tag along?” He arched an eyebrow and looked suspiciously at her.

She gave him a half-shrug and swayed forward a little. She grinned and looked up at him from under her lashes. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and he wanted to leave less and less by the minute. “Well I wouldn't want to be predictable now, would I.”

He shook his head slightly. He debated with himself whether kissing her goodbye before leaving for work would be one step to many into complete domesticity for Phryne. She put an end to his internal argument by kissing him herself.

She pushed up on the tip of her toes and pressed herself fully against him, her hands moving to rest on his hips. She tugged on his lower lip, sucking it into her mouth before thrusting her tongue against his. He moaned and felt Phryne smile against his lips. He took a step backwards, and another, propelled by the weight of her and her delicious assault, until suddenly he was out of the house. Phryne pulled away from him then. She laughed and twirled on her feet. She winked at him over her shoulder before stepping back inside and closing the door on him.

* * *

His return to work was hectic to say the least. He stayed at the station late into the night before going home to his own apartment, which now seemed more foreign than London ever had. But he was back at work only a few short hours later anyway.

True to her words, he next saw Phryne where he least expected her: standing naked and proud in the middle of an art class. She didn't bat an eye when he walked in with Collins and Claridge in tow, although he saw the ghost of a smile in the tiniest curl of her lips. He rolled his eyes and quickly looked away from the appealing sight of all that bare flesh.

He searched the room for the art teacher they'd come to interview while trying not to smirk at his Constable, bright red and desperately trying to look anywhere but Phryne's way. Claridge on the other hand was openly staring at Phryne, although his knitted brow told Jack he was trying to place the lady detective rather than simply ogling her.

Jack found that there was a strange sense of pride that came with being Phryne Fisher's lover. The woman was definitely one of the most attractive woman he'd ever laid eyes on. She was also kind and smart, funny and fierce, and she'd welcome him of all people, in her bed and in her heart.

He was infinitely grateful with the turn that their relationship had taken. But he didn't for one second think Phryne belonged to him and he knew she wouldn't welcome any hint of possessiveness. So, if Phryne didn't mind being stared at my a room-full of men – in fact he thought she rather relished the attention – Jack was certainly not going to be bothered by it either.

Jack set eyes on the short, wiry man oozing with charisma as he commented on his student's drawings, the students someone seemed to be killing one by one. Jack marched towards him and loudly announced the end of the class. Collins and Claridge escorted the confused man out of the room. Jack watched as Phryne casually slipped on a robe. They shared a look before Jack followed his colleagues.

He was almost surprised, and maybe a bit disappointed, that Phryne didn't beat them to the station. He didn't see her again that day, and when he laid between the cold sheets of his bed that night, he craved her touch just as much as he craved discussing the case with her. At least, he had regular updates from Dot, via Hugh, who assured him that Phryne was safe, whatever she was doing.

* * *

When a fourth body was found, the next afternoon, Jack reached the scene just as Phryne started going through the pockets of the victim. In the middle of that continuous murderous rampage, Jack felt slightly guilty for how happy the sight of her made him. “Miss Fisher,” he growled in greeting.

She stood up and beamed at him. “Inspector,” she answered, and the familiarity of it all brought a small smile to his lips, despite the dead body at their feet. Phryne walked close to him, her eyes roaming over his body. There was no hint of the usual cloud of expensive perfume that usually accompanied her, and Jack wondered if she had adopted an alias for the sake of the investigation.

He looked more carefully at her and noticed her elegant outfit, a long brown skirt and a white blouse, was more subdued and not as obviously expensive as what she often wore. He leaned closer to her. “Or is it... Fern? Lulu? Who is it this time?” he asked with a teasing smile.

She gave him a look that was half proud, half annoyed. “Fern,” she admitted.

“And how do you find yourself at my crime scene, Fern?” She glared lightly at him.

“A little bird told me.” Her voice was high-pitched and she turned quickly on her heels. Jack met Hugh's eyes across the room and scowled at the young man. Phryne went back to kneeling by the body. “I don't remember seeing him at the studio. Was he another of Michael's students?” She looked up at Jack.

“No, but the woman who found him, his fiance, told an officer he was an art student. We haven't yet determined which studio he frequented.”

Phryne hummed. “It does seem to be the same killer, doesn't it, with the fingers completely smashed like that. You think he's moved on to another studio?”

“It would seem so. Maybe our visit spooked him.”

She nodded, took a last look at the body and stood up. “Well he wasn't one of Michael's students, then. Nobody missed either yesterday's or this morning's class.” She walked close to him, her brow knitted in thought.

Jack buried his hands in his pockets and watched her with a fond look. “No one in their right mind would miss the chance to paint you.”

She seemed taken aback by the compliment so freely offered in the middle of a crime scene. Then her lips curled into a flirtatious smile and her gaze fell to his lips. She opened her mouth to say something but Hugh coughed behind them and she stopped herself. Jack rolled his lips, trying to stifle the undeserved feeling of annoyance at the interruption.

“Sir,” the young Constable called softly. “The fiance would like to talk to you.”

The grieving woman managed to direct them to the studio where the victim studied. They drove to Rioletto's art school to interview the man in question, a tall dark-skinned man with whom Phryne flirted with delight. Jack felt a tightening in his chest. He wondered if his promise to accept other men as Phryne's lovers was about to be tested.

The artist going as Rioletto – Jack managed to suppress the urge to roll his eyes – had only good things to say about his dead student. “What a waste of talent, such a waste.” He turned to Phryne and smiled, a little too snake-like for Jack's liking. “And what a waste it would be if I could not paint you, beautiful lady.”

Phryne laughed, amused rather than seduced, and Jack did roll his eyes this time. After the man provided an alibi, Jack considered his interview done and not very fruitful. Phryne decided to stay for the beginning of the next class, hoping to glean some informations from the students. She gave Jack an easy smile and a knowing look.

Jack, having driven in his own car, went back to the station, feeling slightly lighter, although he mused that Phryne was thoroughly distracting him from the seriousness of his current investigation. He couldn't find it in him to care, knowing that, between him and Phryne, every effort was made to find and stop their serial killer.

* * *

Phryne burst unannounced in his office at past eight that evening, with a bright grin and a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I have a surprise for you.”

His brow arched and he levelled a wondering look at her. He was as curious as he was worried, a mix of feeling he was now well used to when it came to her. She still stood in the middle of his office, on hand resting on her hip. Her other hand hung in the air and she crooked a finger at him, inviting him to follow her. He sighed and stood up, following her out of the office and out of the station.

“Come along Hugh, we might need reinforcements!” she called on her way out.

Jack shook his head, suddenly a little more concerned. Phryne led them to her car, parked – illegally, he shot her an annoyed look that she ignored – on the other side of the street. She opened the boot of her car and revealed a very uncomfortable-looking man. When he turned his head, slow and sluggish, Jack recognised Michael Riley, the owner of the first art studio Jack had visited for the investigation.

Jack turned to Phryne, his mouth falling open but no words coming out. He couldn't decide what to ask first. “How?” he finally managed to articulate.

“It was not easy, trust me. I nearly tore a nail out,” Phryne explained, checking her nails as she spoke, and Jack tried desperately to remain unamused. “But he's not that much bigger than me, you know.”

Jack took a second, closer look at the man and was relieved not to see any visible injuries. His hand were tied tightly with what looked like a silk scarf, but otherwise, it looked like Phryne had been very restrained. “Why?” he asked this time.

“Let's get the man out of this cramped corner and into an interview room, and I'll explain, Inspector,” Phryne assured.

As it turned out, Phryne had learned from a student of Rioletto's that Michael Riley's brother had also been an aspiring artist. “ But he's been banned from the studio for harassing models,” Phryne explained and Riley nodded pitifully. “After that, the word spread and no artist in Melbourne wanted to bother with him.”

Michael Riley seemed even smaller than his mere 5'7. He sniffed and pressed the heels of his hands against his reddened eyes. “He thought I hadn't done enough for him then, so he started his murderous rampage in my own studio. I knew it was him, Inspector, but he's my brother you see.”

Jack and Phryne drove in a hurry to the last known address of Lester Riley but found it empty and cleaned of any possession. Back at the station, Jack asked Michael for a list of his brother's possible hide-outs. He sent two Constables to scout out the locations and two more were assigned to stake out Riley's former apartment, just in case.

* * *

 

Jack sat behind his desk, reclining in his seat, feeling the exhaustion of the past few days deep in his bones. Phryne sat opposite him, watching him carefully. Jack sighed. “I knew he was hiding something.”

“It takes a lot to break a brotherly bond, Jack.” She looked slightly more composed than him, but just slightly. She stood up and went to sit on the corner of his desk. She raked her fingers through his hair and his eyes closed despite himself.

“You can't spend the night out looking for him,” she said quietly. “You need to get some sleep, Jack.”

He opened his eyes again and stared at her. Her eyes were soft and her lips were curled in the smallest of smiles. Her hand was heavy against his neck. He sensed she was more tired than what she let on, and maybe just a little desperate to spend time with him, although he knew better than to call her on it.

Instead, he smiled up at her and wrapped a hand around her ankle. “Do you want to come home with me?” he asked her, both a little eager and a little anxious at the idea of having Phryne in his home. He was careful to keep it from showing on his face though. He watched as her lips stretched in a slow smile and her eyes widened slightly, maybe in surprise, maybe just in pleasure. He wasn't sure but he liked it all the same.

“Yes!” she breathed out.

He nodded and suppressed a smirk. He'd known she wouldn't be able to resist the invitation. He got up, pulled his coat on and, with a warm hand at the small of her back, he urged her towards the door.

She sat close to him in the car, her shoulder pressed against his. She watched the streets go by with eyes wide with excitement.

“It's a small bungalow, Phryne. Nothing impressive.”

“Shh, don't spoil the surprise.” He shook his head lightly at her childlike eagerness. “I've waited over a year for this,” she added to explain her excitement.

He winced. “Sorry.”

She slapped his upper arm lightly and looked up at him, her smile softer than before. “Don't apologise, Jack. You're a very private person. It's alright.” 

“So are you.”

She tilted her head and shot him a deadpan look. “Me?”

He huffed a small laugh at her expression. “You share your affairs, and your opinions and your... garters...” He took off a hand from the wheel to squeeze her knee. She gave him a throaty laugh in response. “But the big things, you don't talk about them. You keep them close, private. Janey, the war, and René and... your heart.”

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, making sure she hadn't taken offence to his words. Her eyes shimmered in the low light but she still seemed relaxed, happy. She sunk a little bit lower on the seat, tilted her whole self towards him. She stared up at him, her eyes blinking slowly, and gave him a soft, shy smile. “I'll share it with you, if you want,” she whispered. “Piece by piece.”

Luckily, they had arrived at his house and he parked the car, finally free to turn to her, drink in the sight of her, before leaning down to press his lips to hers in a warm kiss. “And I with you,” he whispered back. “Starting with this.”

He pointed behind her, towards the other side of street. She turned quickly and rushed out of the car, her usual impatience and restlessness back in full force.

* * *

 

She was remarkably held back as she followed him inside. The front door opened directly into the living-room and Phryne took a few steps forward. He stared at her, a soft smile curling up his mouth. She pressed her lips together and craned her neck left and right to take a look around the room. He walked around her and away. “I'll make some tea,” he said. “Feel free to snoop around.”

She huffed. “I don't snoop. I investigate.” Her eyes followed him as he walked through the dining-room, and straight into the kitchen. Then she turned around and started investigating.

Jack found her a few minutes later when he walked into the small room that was half a library, half a study, carrying two cups of tea. Phryne was lounging in a chair, reclining backwards against one chair with her legs swung over the other and crossed gracefully.

She was also gloriously naked. Jack blinked slowly and swallowed hard. “I see you've made yourself comfortable.” His voice was raspy and his pants already too tight.

Phryne smirked and raised her shoulder in a small half-shrug. “It got hot.”

“Tell me about it,” he groaned.

She laughed, throaty and sexy. Jack put the two cups down on the desk. Next, he stepped out of his shoes and took of his jacket.

“Jaaack,” she moaned impatiently.

When he turned, her hand was already down between her legs. He smiled. She seemed particularly wanton tonight. He wondered if she'd missed him. He fell to his knees next to her and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “You're beautiful,” he whispered.

She grinned wide and curled her hand behind his neck to bring him down for a kiss. He plunged his tongue in her mouth, sighing as he quenched his thirst of her, after three long days without kissing her. After a long minute, he pulled back and moved down her body, kissing the hollow of her throat, the freckles on her chest. He took her erect nipple in his mouth and sucked. He tugged, bit and soothed with a lick of his tongue.

She arched against him and raked her nails over his skull. “Jack,” she breathed. He scraped his teeth against the underside of her breast and nuzzled his nose against her nipple. “Don't tease,” she huffed.

He raised his head to narrow his eyes at her. He pinched her nipple, making her gasp, and he smirked. Still on his knees, he shuffled to the side. He stared at her as he uncrossed her legs. She dropped one foot on the floor. She watched him with half-lidded eyes, her mouth slightly open as she breathed hard. Jack kissed her inner thighs gently, closer and closer to where she wanted him. The musky, intoxicating smell of her arousal reached him and made his cock pulse with desire.

“Jack, fuck,” she swore. She refused to beg, despite how desperate she was for him. How did he do this to her? Three short days without him and her whole body was thrumming with lust, but not just lust. She was thrumming with her desire for him.

She stroked a hand over her breasts, rolling a nipple between her fingers, and brought her other hand to cup his face. She tugged on his ear and brushed her thumb over the sensitive part of his auricle, smiling at the way he leaned into her touch.

He stroked the flat of his thumb along her cunt, opening her and spreading her wetness. Her thighs twitched under his hands and she carded her fingers in his hair. When he looked up at her, she'd thrown her head back and was biting her lip. He brought his mouth down between her thighs and swiped his tongue up her flesh before pushing his tongue hard on her clit.

Jack smiled at the strangled noise she made as she thrust up against his mouth. He grabbed her leg under the knee to put it over his shoulder, holding her other thigh against the back of the chair. He flicked his tongue over her clit and trailed a finger lightly down the back of her thigh. She trembled at his touch.

He loved knowing that the back of her legs were ticklish. It spoke of an intimacy he'd come to cherish. It could also earn him a full-throated laugh from Phryne when he timed it well, and he loved nothing quite like the sound of her laugh, loud and free.

She tugged on his hair and undulated her hips, restless and eager under his mouth. He huffed a laugh against her hot flesh, making her gasp. Jack slid a hand under her arse to tilt her up. The angle allowed him to delve his tongue inside her.

“God, yes, this...” Phryne whimpered. “This is good.”

He pulled away just a breath and looked up at her, smirking. “This feels like an understatement, Phryne,” he rasped.

“Less cheek and more tongue, darling,” she keened and pushed his head back down.

Happy to oblige, he lapped and licked and fucked her until she shattered, crying out and shuddering as she came. Jack stayed on his knees, smoothing his hands up and down her calves, bringing her down from her climax.

After a while, Phryne sat up and pushed him back. Jack fell on his arse and braced himself on his hands just as she slid onto his lap, her knees on either side of his hips. She kissed him while she pushed the braces off his shoulders, unbuttoned his shirt and untucked his singlet from his pants.

Jack brought one hand up to slide in her hair. “I actually have a comfortable bed, you know,” he said against her ear.

“Too far,” she mumbled.

Jack skimmed his hand down her back, trailing his fingers along her spine. Phryne opened his trousers and slipped her hands down the back of his underpants. He raised his hips slightly and she pulled his pants down, just enough so that she could free his cock. Immediately, she sunk unto him and sighed against his mouth, ecstatic with the feeling of him sheathed inside her.

He breathed out against her lips and stared into her eyes, dizzy with the feeling of her heat around him. “Phryne,” he whispered. He felt the fluttering of her inner muscles. He squeezed her arse and, after a second, he thrust up slightly.

She slipped her hands under his top, splaying them over his abdomen, slick with sweat, and bracing herself before she started to ride him. She moved slowly, rolling her hips. Jack stayed focused on her, watching her eyes roll back behind her heavy lids, her flushed cheeks, her teeth biting into her lower lip. Her chest heaved with each breath she took.

Jack splayed his hand on her back, pressing her forward so he could press his lips to the underside of her jaw. “When I saw you in that studio...” he rasped, and kissed her sternum, “I wished I was one of those men, so that I could spend my day staring at you, at every line and curve of your beautiful body...” He dipped his head to take a nipple in his mouth and Phryne whimpered. She opened her eyes and met his. She rose slightly and he thrust up, unwilling to leave her warmth. “And the brilliance of your mind... The wit and the humour that shine in your eyes, Phryne... I could spend the rest of my days trying to paint this.”

Her blue eyes shone brightly in the dimly lit room. “Jack,” she whispered in a strangled voice. She scratched her nails on his abdomen and closed her mouth over his. Her teeth clashed messily against his before she tilted her head and dipped her tongue between his lips.

His abdominal muscles tensed under her hands as his bracing hand left the floor and he brought his two hands to cup her face. He pressed a thumb to her pulse point, feeling the fast beating of her heart. Jack fell backwards, lying on the floor, bringing her down with him. She rested a hand on the floor, just beside his head and rubbed her erect nipples against his chest. Her wet lips slid over his.

“I've missed you,” Phryne sighed, and her eyes widened slightly as if she was taken aback by her own admission.

Jack smirked and she punished him by rising above him until his cock slipped completely from her. She rubbed lightly against the tip of him, making him groan. “Fuck,” he swore when she sunk back on him. Their rhythm was messy for a minute but grew fast as they got in sync. He thrust up as she came down and the room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and the wet noises of their joined bodies.

They flew higher and higher together and he came a second after she did, his muscles seizing, her name falling from his lips, as she cried out his own. She fell on him, her breasts flattened against his chest, her head nestled under his chin. She panted, and suddenly started giggling. Jack craned his neck to try and look at her. He frowned. “What are you laughing about?”

She pushed up on an elbow, grinning. “I can't wait to do this in every room of your house.”

He chuckled as well. He carded his fingers through her hair and kissed her under the eye. “Come on, Phryne, I'm too old to sleep on the floor.”

She smirked and helped him up. He held his pants up with a hand, ignoring how silly he must look. Phryne followed him out of the room and across the living-room, pressing kisses on his bare skin here and there. When they stepped into the bedroom, she turned to face him. She took off his singlet, running her hands over his bare chest. She kissed him and walked them backwards. Jack stepped out of his opened trousers as he followed her. They slid under the covers, their kisses getting slower and lazier as sleep overtook them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I'm crazy busy at the moment! :(

When his alarm-clock woke him up the next morning, Jack sighed and turned his head to the side. He smiled at the sight of Phryne, sleeping on her stomach, head buried in the pillow and one hand splayed over his upper arm. “Quiet that thing down or I'm going to shoot it,” she muttered sleepily, without moving or opening her eyes.

He smirked, reaching out to turn off the alarm. _Right_ , Phryne was most definitely not a morning person. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck before sitting up and swinging his feet off the bed.

She'd moved slightly when he got back from the bathroom, and was lying on her side, her arms wrapped around his own pillow. He sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned over her to kiss her temple. “Do you want breakfast or do you want to keep sleeping,” he asked her softly.

She breathed deeply, half a sigh, half a groan, turned on her back and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his neck. “Don't go to work.”

He almost fell into her and braced himself with a hand on the mattress, near her head. Phryne smelled like sex, with a hint of her perfume still hanging around her, and he was dangerously tempted to surrendering. But he had to go to the station, get the night reports from his Constables and organise the search for Lester Riley before the man decided to kill again. Of course, Phryne already knew that and he didn't explain.

But he did indulge her – and himself – by kissing her, a slow stroke of tongue against tongue, before he pulled away and left the bed altogether. She sighed and sat up, running a hand in her hair. Jack watched her as he buttoned up his shirt. “So, breakfast?” he offered again.

She yawned, and gave him a small half-shrug. “I have to get up and get dressed anyway. If I don't leave with you, I'll have to break out of your home like some kind of criminal,” she said, her voice going up and her eyes widening playfully.

“And what kind of lady would that make you,” he teased.

Phryne grinned. She moved to rest on her hands and knees, and crawled to the foot of the bed. He swallowed hard at the sight. “Not a very proper one,” she purred. She sat up on her knees and reached for him. He went to her gladly.

She took the tie that rested on his shoulder and laid it carefully around his neck, under his collar. He put his hands on her hips, stroking his thumb on her naked skin. He stared at her as she tied his tie. There were sleep crumbs at the corner of her eyes. It always amazed him how easily she could go from dead-drop sexy to heartbreakingly adorable, sometimes in the same minute.

When she was done, she rested her hands on his chest and looked up at him. She ran her tongue over her lips and batted her lashes, maybe sleepy, maybe flirty, he wasn't quite sure. He leaned down and kissed her anyway. After that, he went to his dresser, grabbing something from the top drawer, and turned back to her.

She was sitting back on her feet. His eyes roamed over her naked body and when he looked back up at her face, she was sporting a proud grin. He smiled one of those smiles that only showed in his eyes. “You don't have to leave right now,” he said. He walked up to her, took her hand and placed something in her palm.

She opened her hand and looked at his gift. She frowned. “It's a key to my house,” he explained. “You can go back to sleep and just go home when you feel like it.” Her mouth opened on a quiet, breathy “oh”. She stared at it. She wrapped her free arm around her middle. “It's not... I mean, I really don't need...” “It's a key, Phryne,” he interrupted, “not a proposal.”

He rested a fist on his hip and braced his other hand on the wooden frame at the foot of the bed. She met his eyes, warm and patient, and exhaled . “I'm just new to this kind of commitment...” she said quietly. After a long few seconds, her fist closed around the key and she looked up at him. She smiled shyly. “I suppose I can bear the normalcy of using a key rather than a lock-pick.”

Jack released a breath he hadn't known he was holding. “Good. It will be easier for you to seduce me in every room of the house if you're not being arrested for breaking and entering.”

She grinned, wide and toothy. “I think you underestimate me, Inspector,” she teased.

He shook his head slightly and pecked her on the lips again before walking away to put his suit jacket on. Then he turned back towards her, put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. Phryne immediately narrowed her eyes. “Would I be pushing my luck if I asked you not to go look for this lunatic yourself?” Jack asked. She cocked an eyebrow and shot him a deadpan look. He sighed. “Fine, just be careful, then.”

“I'm always careful, Jack!”

She dropped backwards on the bed, her arms shaping a triangle above her head. She drew a languid breath that desperately made Jack want to crawl back to her and love her all day long. He shook himself out of this wishful thinking and turned away. “If you run into old Mrs Malsey on your way out... Please don't scandalise her into a heart attack,” he urged before leaving for work, her answering, throaty laugh carrying to the hallway.

* * *

In the afternoon Jack got a call from Bert, warning him that Lester Riley had been sighted in a pub across the street from another art studio. He pressed the cabbie for information and, as he suspected, Phryne was there as well. He took Collins with him and drove over there in a hurry.

When he reached the pub, Riley was just walking out, Phryne on his heels. Suddenly, the man caught sight of their police presence and froze. Time slowed down and Jack's stomach lurched as he realised what was about to happen.

Lester Riley turned back, searching around for an easy exit. He saw Phryne standing just a a few feet behind him and reached for her with one hand, for the pistol tucked in his trousers with the other. From where he was standing, Jack saw Phryne's eyes widen, her mouth fall open in shock. She winced as the nuzzle of the gun dug into her side.

Phryne being Phryne, she fought back. She struggled for the gun and Jack started to run. It was just a few feet but his muscles tensed and his throat burned like he was reaching the end of a marathon.

A shot rung through the air, loud and heartbreaking and Jack stopped dead in his tracks. Both Riley and Phryne had fallen on the floor, tangled in a indiscernible mess of limbs. Blood was already pooling on the asphalt. “Phryne!” Jack shouted.

He started moving again. He hurried forward, grabbed Riley's coat to pull him off Phryne and sank to his knees. “Phryne,” he called again, his voice hoarse. She moaned and brought a hand up to her head. Jack turned his head and saw that the blood was coming from Riley's stomach.

He called for Collins, for an ambulance, but his focus was on Phryne. She was blinking slowly, trying to get her bearings. “Don't try to move, Phryne.”

She groaned, ignored him and sat up. He watched her carefully, trying to assess her for possible injuries. Her dress was stained but the blood was most likely Riley's. “I'm fine,” she mumbled. “But he won't be if you don't stop the bleeding.”

She jerked her head towards the injured man and winced, seemingly regretting her movement. She took off her scarf and handed it to Jack. Regretfully, he stepped away from her to kneel next to Lester Riley and pressed the brightly coloured scarf to the bleeding wound.

It felt like forever before the ambulance got there, and longer still before Jack found himself alone with Phryne. They stood on the street, watching the ambulance drive away, rushing a fading Riley to hospital. More accurately, Phryne watched the vehicle, while Jack watched her. He turned towards her, took her chin gently between index and thumb and tilted her head to the side. “Your head is bleeding,” he rasped.

She batted his hand away and glared. “It's just a scratch.”

“I'll ask Doctor Macmillan to look you over.”

She sighed. “Don't fuss like that, Jack. I'm fine, really.”

He stuck his hands in his pockets and took a small step back. He had the softest look in his eyes, and the hint of a smirk on his lips. “You know, most people would be flattered to be worried over.”

“I'm not most people,” she countered. She arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

He smiled wider then. “Thank god for that.”

His answer seemed to appease her a bit. She relaxed, her arms falling to her sides, and rolled her eyes with a small smile. Jack cast a quick look towards the pub, in front of which Hugh was taking Bert's statement. His gaze fell to the pool of blood, already drying on the sunny street.

The lump in his throat came back. “I'm not sure what I would do if something ever happened to you,” he admitted, almost absent-mindedly.

Her breath hitched and, when he looked at her, she had withdrawn again. She rested her fists on her hips and narrowed her eyes. “Is it going to be a problem?”

“What will?” he asked, confused at her sudden change of demeanour.

“Us working together now that we're in a relationship? We're doing a dangerous job, Jack, and you can't spend your time fussing over me.”

“You were almost shot, Phryne. I think I'm allowed a few minutes of worry. I do promise to keep a professional distance if you would like.” As if to demonstrate his point, he took a step back from her. “But you won't stop me worrying no more than I will stop you from being worrisome.” He tilted his head down and scowled, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. Phryne started to smile. “I'd rather be there to witness your crazy stunts, and watch you walk out of them,” he added quietly.

Phryne stepped close to him and rested a hand on his chest. “Same goes for you.” She looked up at him from behind her lashes and smiled.

* * *

When Jack came back from visiting Lester Riley at the hospital, Phryne was waiting for him in his office. She was sitting in her usual chair, her feet on his desk, reading a file that – Jack was pretty sure – had been in his desk drawer. He glanced at it, seeing that it was a closed case that was coming up for trial. “The maid did it,” he told her.

She startled and he smirked at her surprise. She narrowed her eyes at him, closed the file and threw it on his desk. “Well now you've spoiled it for me.”

She stood up, gracefully and sensually. She had changed out of her bloodied outfit, and her bob was perfectly smoothed. Her hips swayed as she walked to his side of the desk. The corner of his mouth twitched as Jack struggled to hide a smile.

He watched her move towards him. She sat on the desk and crossed her legs. She curled her hands around the edge and leaned forward. Jack's gaze fell to her lips, then darted to the closed door of his office. He edged closer to her and rested his elbow on the desk, his hand opened against her hip.

Phryne grinned. “You know, I think we've handled this investigation with the utmost professionalism, Inspector.”

Jack nodded seriously. He stood up, leaning with one hand on the desk, against her thigh, and rested a fist on his hip. “I agree Miss Fisher. Very professional indeed.”

She grabbed his tie, pulled him down and laughed against his lips as they closed over hers. “Mr Butler is making gratin tonight,” she mentioned between kisses.

“Count me in,” he answered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My chapters seem to be getting shorter and shorter the closer I get to the end of what I've written so far...   
> Thanks for your patience and your kind words! ;)

Jack had been given the next day off, both as a reward for arresting a serial killer, and as a compensation for his holiday being cut short. As a result, he was currently enjoying a lazy morning in Phryne's bed. His eyes followed the woman in question as she crossed the room, carrying their breakfast tray. He took the tray from her hands and held it carefully as she climbed on top of the covers.

He started buttering up a piece of toast while Phryne poured the tea in both their cups and added three sugars to hers, two for his. He smiled suddenly, as he realised that this had become a routine. Next, she'd take the toast from his hand, with wide eyes and an innocent moue. She'd trap the toast between her teeth, the butter greasing her lips, and hand him his tea cup. He watched her, wondering if he should tease her about becoming predictable. He doubted that she would appreciate, so he hid his grin behind the cup she'd just handed him. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him but stayed silent.

She ran her tongue over her shiny lips and Jack got thoroughly distracted for a minute. He cleared his throat and drank his tea. “When are you leaving for Ballarat?” he asked her.

She gave him a startled look, and a small shrug. “I'm not sure. Why? Are you in a hurry to get rid of me, Inspector?” She smirked, her blue eyes twinkling with humour.

He leaned in towards her, and pressed his lips to hers in a quick kiss. “Never,” he rasped and she huffed a small laugh. “I just thought you wanted some space.”

She smiled at the caring and the understanding in his voice. She ran a hand in his hair and scratched lightly at his skull. His eyes half-closed at the touch. “I've barely seen you these last three days. And tomorrow night I'm having a girls' night out with my adventurer's club. I've got plenty of space, Jack. Don't worry about me.”

“To be honest, I have a hard time worrying about anything when you're wearing my clothes.”

Phryne looked down at herself, remembered that she was indeed wearing Jack's pyjama top, and burst out laughing.

* * *

A couple of hours later, Jack and Phryne came back from the beach and barged into Wardlow, loudly and playfully arguing over who had the better stroke. Jack had been faster but Phryne argued his swimming lacked grace.

“When did you become a sore loser?” Jack smirked.

“I'm not. I just like my talents to be recognised.” She braced her fists on her hips and tilted her chin up. She stared at him as she waited for his come-back. There was a fire in her eyes and her lips, softly pink without make up, were set in determination. A strand of wet hair fell in her eyes and she blew it out of her face.

Jack refrained from telling her that she looked adorable. He took a step closer to her and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Alright then. You're very good at stroking,” he said. The low, rumbling tones of his voice carried the innuendo loud and clear.

Phryne chuckled. She stared up at him, her eyes suddenly a shade darker and trailed a finger up his bare arm. She startled when someone cleared their throat behind them, and turned on her heels, the skirt of her light cotton dress twirling around her. “Mr Butler,” she greeted her employee.

The man had an indulgent smile on his face and a tray of sandwiches in his hands. He nodded politely. “I've prepared a light lunch, miss, if you're hungry.”

“Famished! I'll just change out of my bathing suit and I'll be down in a moment.”

When Jack and Phryne came back down twenty minutes later, Dorothy was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “A letter's arrived for you, Miss. It's from London.” She handed the white square and Phryne thanked her kindly.

She sat down at the dining-room table and watched as Jack hastened to grab a sandwich. She shook her head with a soft smile and opened the envelope with her knife. She nibbled on her own sandwich while she read the letter.

“Everything ok?” Jack asked.

She nodded and hummed, waiting to swallow her mouthful before explaining. “It's from my mother. “ She kept on reading and suddenly groaned. “Oh god, my parents are coming to Melbourne for Christmas.”

Jack frowned. “Why aren't you happy? I thought you were the one that suggested it.”

“You were distracting me, I didn't realise what I was saying,” she accused and kicked his chin lightly with her foot. Jack smirked and she rolled her eyes. “Their ship is supposed to dock on the 21st. That means they're likely already sailing.” She sighed again. “Maybe they can stay at aunt P's.” She threw the letter on the other side of the table, dragged her chair closer to Jack's and rested her arm on his shoulder. “I think you should distract me again right now.”

Jack turned his head towards her and his gaze immediately fell to her lips, inches from his own. He levelled a nonplussed look at her, but she recognised the invisible smile lighting up his features. He leaned forward and brushed a kiss over her mouth. She felt the lightest dip of his tongue against her skin before he pulled away, smirking. “Bread crumb,” he said. Phryne glared.

* * *

Phryne and Jack got separate cases the next day and were kept independently busy for a while. But on day 3, Phryne showed up at the station with a large basket and managed to drag him away from his work for an impromptu picnic.

Her stomach full of Mr Butler's delicious food, Phryne reclined on her elbows, her legs stretched in front of her, crossed at the ankles. Jack sat at her feet, his legs curled on the side and one hand flat on the ground, propping him up. Phryne's blue eyes were intent on him. “Come on!”

“Phryne.” His mouth twitched with the urge to smile.

“Jack, come on.” Her voice went up and she arched an eyebrow. Her lips stretched in a bewitching grin.

He sighed. “Fine.” He separated one grape from the cluster and aimed it at her. He threw it and she caught it right in her mouth.

“Ha!” she exclaimed, victorious. He dipped his head down, hiding an amused smile. She pushed her feet against his chest and hummed softly, freedom and happiness expanding in her chest. She turned on her side and cushioned her cheek in the palm of her hand, her eyes still on Jack. “I was thinking about Christmas,” she said. Jack nodded slightly, waiting for her to carry on. “I think I'm going to throw a big party, in the backyard maybe.”

“A Christmas picnic?” Jack chipped in, amused.

“More like a garden party. With so many people I think it would be easier than a sit-down dinner. With my parents, Aunt P, Bert, Cec and Alice, Mac, Dot and Hugh, Jane... My dining-room isn't that large.” She rolled her eyes and gave him a small smile. She sat up then, and crossed her legs. “Also, I was thinking that maybe you could invite your family... If you wanted, that is.”

Her features were soft, relaxed, but Jack saw the vulnerability behind her apparent calm. His breath caught in his throat. “Phryne... Just a few days ago you almost had a panic attack because I gave you a home key...”

“That's a gross overstatement, Jack.”

“... And now you want to invite my family over for Christmas?”

Phryne picked up the cutlery, the napkins, and threw them casually in the basket. “I don't do relationships, Jack. I'm bound to get skittish at times. I think last time I met a lover's family was Lin's grandmother and she basically called me a hussy. But when I do things, I don't do them by half.” She stopped moving, sighed quietly and looked at him, her eyes soft and her face open. “You're a part of my family, Jack. And I want to be a part of yours.”

He stared at her, struck dumb by how much he loved her. “You...” His voice caught in his throat and he had to clear it. “You are, Phryne. You are my family.”

She smiled, almost shyly. “But you don't want me to meet your family?”

“I don't want you to feel like you have to.”

“I want to, Jack. I want to get to know every part of you.”

Jack curled his hand around her calf. “Ok then.” He smiled slightly. “I'll talk to my father and my sisters.”

Phryne smiled back. They finished packing up and stood up. Jack carried the basket and Phryne linked her arm through his. “Do they know about me? About us?” she asked.

“They don't know we are an item.” Jack cast a sidelong look at her. She didn't seem upset, merely curious. “They know a little about you, that we work together. I didn't talk much about you at first, when I was still married. I think I felt a little guilty about how much I enjoyed spending time with you.” She chuckled, tilting her head down, her hair falling forward. “After my divorce, I started sharing more. And then Grace saw you in the paper, realised you weren't an old spinster but a beautiful socialite. That's when she started nagging me quite often about you.”

Phryne laughed and bumped her shoulder into his. “Which one is Grace again?”

“My younger sister,” Jack explained and Phryne nodded. “She is quite curious about you. She'll love to meet you. As for dad and Helen... I'm sure they will be a bit taken aback," he added, without a hint of concern in his voice.

They were silent for the next few minutes, until they reached the Hispano. Phryne grabbed the basket from his hand and put it in the back seat of her car. She turned to Jack and her hands slid down the edge of her light coat. “Aren't you worried they'll disapprove of me?”

His brow furrowed. “Phryne... First of all, I don't care whether or not they'll approve or not. And secondly... I don't think there is anyone who would be able to resist you when you decide to be charming.”

A beaming smile lit up her face and brought small wrinkles to the corner of her eyes. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and climbed into her car, while Jack walked back to the station.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER! But exams are done, summer job hasn't started yet, so hopefully i'll be able to update more regularly...

“Tell me about your sisters,” Phryne asked as they laid in her bed one night, her head pillowed on his chest, her hair softly tickling his chin.

Jack stroked his thumb over her hipbone. She was naked under the sheets. They rarely bothered to dress again for the night after making love. He stared up at the ceiling as he chose his words. “Grace is the youngest, four years younger than me. She's quite traditional I suppose. Married, with four children, takes care of the house and the family. She's been looking after my father too, loath as he is to accept the help. He has never truly gotten over my mother's death.”

Jack breathed deeply. Phryne's hand, curled around his upper arm, squeezed softly. “When did she pass?”

“Over ten years ago, last year of the war. I was still overseas.” Phryne's lips brushed against his chest, soothed his heartache. “Grace is the youngest but she almost behaves like the oldest, always believes she has to look after us all.”

“She's the one who bakes you biscuits, isn't she?” He heard the smile in her voice before he saw it, as she pushed up on an elbow to look at him, her hand cupping her cheek. Jack nodded and smiled back. “I'll have to remember to compliment her on her baking, then. What about Helen?”

Phryne turned on her back, one arm under her head. Jack propped himself up on his elbow, his hand falling to her head, his fingers carding through her hair without thought. She stared up at him as he leaned over her. “Helen is barely two years older than me. We were inseparable as kids. She didn't take my divorce very well though, and accused me of not trying hard enough with Rosie.” Jack sighed and Phryne frowned. “For someone who has never been married, Helen is an avid defender of marriage. She is very modern in other ways. She studied to become a school teacher and spends most of her free time fighting for girls' education.”

“I may like her after all,” Phryne quipped. Jack scowled playfully at her. He fell quiet, his eyes staring off unfocused. “Jack?” Phryne asked.

“Is it... strange, that I'm wondering if perhaps we should introduce her to Doctor Macmillan?”

“What do you mean? Oh!” she exclaimed as she realised what Jack meant. “What makes you say that?”

Jack lowered a bit, his head falling in his palm. His leg slipped between hers and his free hand splayed against her ribs. “I'm not sure... I'd never thought about it, before... Before I found out about Mac, that is.” Phryne watched him with soft eyes and a softer smile, struck as she often was by his kindness, his good heart. She wrapped her hand around his forearm, resting against her stomach, and stroked a finger over his skin. “She has never had boyfriends as far as I'm aware. And, well she would fit in well in your adventurer's club, with your trousers and your gaspers.”

Phryne burst out laughing, a loud cackle that had her throwing her head back and quickly covering her mouth with her hand. Jack looked at her with a sort of fond annoyance. Her laugh subdued slowly. “Do you think our meetings are just giant sapphic orgies?” she teased between giggles.

Jack blushed a delicious shade of red. Phryne pushed on his chest to roll him onto his back. She straddled him and leaned over him, bracing herself with one hand right next to Jack's head as the other splayed over his stomach. She lowered her head until her hair brushed against his nose. His fingers trailed down her spine and squeezed the soft flesh of her bottom. She hummed in approval. Her eyes fluttered as she rocked lightly over him.

“Well, Helen and Mac will have a chance to meet at the Christmas party,” she said, her voice husky and slightly breathless. “No need to speculate until then.”

Jack groaned. “Phryne, love, I'd really rather not talk about my sisters when you are sitting this close to my cock.”

Her laugh was throaty and quickly muffled against Jack's lips. Her tongue slid against his as she raised her hips slightly. She moved back an inch, wrapped her hand around his cock and guided him inside her, sighing contently at the feeling. He grabbed Phryne by the hips and rolled her onto her back, pushing into her with one deep thrust. She moaned and her head fell back, her bared throat quickly covered by Jack's mouth. He licked at the skin and tasted the saltiness of her dried sweat, remaining from their previous encounter. He grunted and closed a hand over breast, her nipple hard against his palm.

“Jack,” she sighed. Phryne hooked her legs high against Jack's sides. Her hands splayed over his backside, her fingers digging into the flesh, urging him deeper as she raised her hips to meet his thrusts. “More,” she keened, although she wasn't quite sure what she was asking for.

It seemed Jack knew for her, because his rhythm grew faster and harder. He slipped a hand under her lower back, angling her so that his pelvic bone ground against her clit. She gasped and her nails dug into his back, marking the skin with red scratches. Jack grunted, a rumbling sound that might have been her name. Phryne cupped both her hands around his face and kissed him with a messy passion, her lips sliding wetly against his.

After one last shaky jerk of his hips, Jack came, rasping out her name. “Phryne, god, Phryne, love.”

Prompted at least in part by his loving words, her own climax rippled through her, and she was left breathless and sluggish, her chest flushed and heaving under him. Jack rolled them both so that she laid stretched on top of him. She pressed a kiss to his chest and promptly fell asleep.

* * *

 

The following Saturday, Phryne stood on the first floor balcony, dressed only in her black robe. Her elbows were propped on the rail and her hands were wrapped around a large cup of tea. It was already early afternoon and her neighbours were going about their business while she had only just gotten up. She grinned and waved at Mrs Callaway, who always cast disapproving glances her way. The woman, caught staring, lowered her head and walked away. Phryne laughed, took another sip of tea, and sighed happily.

She had gone dancing the night before and Jack had stayed late at the station to finish up some paperwork in order to better enjoy his weekend. She had gone to bed and woken up alone. Although she had a great deal of fun at the club, Phryne had felt no desire to take a lover, especially knowing that she would have Jack to herself all weekend. Phryne was slowly coming to terms with her own feelings. She loved Jack like she had never quite loved anyone before, or like she had never let herself love before. The remarkable thing was that she felt utterly unchanged, if not freer, since she and Jack had stopped dancing around each other. He didn't ask more of her than she was willing to give and she never felt she had to compromise herself.

Suddenly, she caught sight of the man in question, coming up the street on his bicycle. She smiled, turned and made her way down the stairs in a hurry. She met him in the kitchen, dropped her cup in the sink and jumped up on the kitchen table, crossing her legs and leaning back on her hands. Her lips stretched in a cat-like grin as she watched him undress her with his eyes. “Morning, Inspector,” she purred.

Her own eyes roamed over him. He looked positively delectable in his cycling gear. His shorts showed off his muscular calves and his jersey hugged his biceps in a way that made her mouth water. A strand of hair curled against his forehead. She ran her tongue over her lips and hummed quietly.

“Morning, Miss Fisher? It's almost two.”

There was a teasing glint in his eyes as he took a step closer to her. She shrugged. “I'm a creature of leisure.”

The smile made his way from his eyes to his lips. He walked closer still and she opened her legs to let him stand between them. “We both know you aren't.”

Phryne smiled. She trailed a finger over his Adam's apple, down his throat, and hooked it in his collar, bringing him down closer. Her mouth closed over the skin of his neck, suckling lightly. She moaned. “You're sweaty.”

“You don't sound like you mind.”

She chuckled. She wrapped her legs around his waist and dropped back onto the table, dragging Jack down with her. He resisted slightly, and braced himself with a hand on the table. “Phryne,” he groaned. There was a hint of a blush on his cheeks and Phryne grinned.

“Mr Butler is running errands,” she announced in a raspy voice.

“Anyone could burst in.”

“Better make it quick then.”

Jack sighed and shook his head slightly. Suddenly, he grabbed Phryne by the waist, lifted her and hoisted her up over his shoulder.

“Jack!” she gasped in surprise.

His hand splayed over her buttocks. “There is a great deal of things I will unquestionably do for you, Phryne. But I have to draw the line somewhere.”

She laughed loudly as he carried her up the stairs.

* * *

Mr Butler was back from the market when Phryne and Jack came out of the bedroom. He prepared light sandwiches for them to snack on while sitting on the back porch. Jack had a hand resting over Phryne's feet, settled in his lap. “I ended up having dinner at Grace's yesterday,” Jack said.

Phryne turned her head towards him, watching the beautiful sharp lines of his profile and letting the soothing rumble of his voice wash over her.

“In her words, your Christmas garden party is a splendid idea.”

Phryne smiled. “Good. And does she think she's spending Christmas at your colleague's or...”

“My sweetheart's. That's what she called you.” Jack smirked.

She tilted her head down and laughed softly. Jack watched her fondly and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I may be too old to be a sweetheart.”

“Well it's true that Gracie doesn't know you're past thirty,” he teased.

“Hey!” She slapped him on the arm and glared playfully. “We'll celebrate your fortieth before mine you know.” Jack's hand closed over her feet and she wriggled her toes against his palm. “They took it well, then, your family?”

“Helen wasn't there, but Grace was quite excited. Dad asked me if I knew what I was getting into. I told him that I had no idea, obviously.” Phryne laughed, leaned towards Jack and kissed him. “You won't go mad with Gracie's four children running around, will you?” He arched an eyebrow.

She shrugged and smirked. “There will be plenty of eggnog to make me merry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some liberties with their age...

**Author's Note:**

> Well this took forever! I hope you'll enjoy this sequel to new lands. :) Please, let me know what you think!


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